


Warm Fuzzies

by Neroli66



Category: Actor RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-30
Updated: 2007-01-30
Packaged: 2019-09-15 11:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neroli66/pseuds/Neroli66
Summary: Jared/Jensen just starting to get to know each other. Originally posted to LJ in 2007.





	Warm Fuzzies

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Happy Birthday [](https://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](https://kueble.livejournal.com/)! *smooch* Not money porn (or, you know, porn at all) but hopefully this will be just as good. Un-beta'd because I didn't have time (although some improvements were suggested by [](https://arabella-hope.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://arabella-hope.livejournal.com/)**arabella_hope** , she also did mucho hand holding during the writing, thanks Babe!) and also? My very first RPS fic, figures I'd end up doing this for Kate's Birthday, huh?
> 
> I took some (re:lots) of liberties with Canadian weather and tv series filming scheduals. Just to make it clear, this is set after the pilot and before they start filming on the series.

  
Jensen wrapped his arms tighter across his chest and hoped Jared hadn't noticed the shiver that passed through him. It was taking all his skill to make this arms-crossed-tight-over-his-chest pose appear _casual_ as it was.

Couldn't they have scheduled this little tour of the set for a day when it was _wasn't_ below 50 degrees out? Or at least later in the day when the sun had a chance to warm things up a bit?

Fuck, it was late summer here, early fall at the most. Why hadn't he remembered how fucking _frigid_ Vancouver could get?

He was the one that was supposed to have all the experience filming here, not the Gigantor standing next to him; and yet, Jared was the one bundled up under layers of shirts and sweaters – two of each near as Jensen could tell – and standing there as relaxed and warm as if he was in fucking Hawaii. He probably had a pair of long johns on under those loose jeans of his as well.

Of course, from what Jensen remembered of their first meeting to get the go on the pilot and then the filming of it, Jared was like a goddamn space heater anyway.

Not that he ever thought about that brief contact of skin on skin when they had both reached for the pitcher of water during their 'audition' or that scene where he'd had to slam Jared's 6' forever frame against a bridge or – God forbid – the take after take they'd had to do of Sam and Dean's fight scene.

Nope, Jensen hadn't thought of any of those things _once_ in the long months since filming had ended on the pilot. Same way he never thought of those laughing eyes that could change from green to blue to brown at the drop of a hat or the sweet little brunette that his very much _not_ gay co-star was dating.

And if Jensen could convince himself of _that_ , he could convince himself he wasn't wishing those huge, warm hands were framing his ice cold face right now. Which, he really needed to stop doing since it lead straight into thoughts of Jared's breath warming his ice cold lips and his big nose rubbing gently against Jensen's in an Eskimo kiss.

He'd just about kill for a hot mug of coffee right about now, or hot chocolate, anything to keep himself from the shame of having to blow on his own hands to get some feeling back into them. It's not like it was even that fucking cold out, not compared to what the coming months would bring. He _knew_ that this was barely a chill, and if he'd worn something more than a flannel over his t-shirt he'd probably have been just fine. Something like a parka or an electric blanket cranked up to 10.

He irritably shoved the image of wearing a warm-bodied co-star to the back of his mind as said co-star turned and grinned that stupid _OMG, this is so fucking awesome_ smile at him for the bazillionth time since they got there.

“Hey man, you okay?” Jared asked as another shiver ran through Jensen. And Jensen totally did _not_ shiver a little more at the way Jared's voice deepened in concern.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he muttered. “I just wish the PA would get here so we could get the show on the road.”

“God, yes,” Jared laughed and Jensen wasn't sure he could even _try_ to deny the way that rumbling sound made his toes curl. Especially when Jared leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “We could just start without her.”

Fuck, he was so screwed.

“We...” Jensen swallowed and licked his lips nervously before trying to speak again. “We should wait, don't want to get in trouble before we even start shooting, do we?”

Jensen tried for a laugh to go with his words, but the flicker of _something_ that seemed to shine in Jared's eyes when he said 'shooting' distracted him. He knew it had to be his imagination, no way Jared was picking up on the undercurrent of meaning there. Jensen was a better actor than that and he _knew_ he'd been careful to keep everything light and friendly.

The only thing worse than having a crush on your co-star was your co-star _knowing_ about it. All it did was add unnecessary tension to the set, especially when you already knew it was a lost cause.

Jared just stood there looking at him with this strange, serious expression; it was the same kind of thoughtful, doe-eyed look Jared would have used as Sam. Like he knew Jensen was hiding something and he wanted to pick and prod until Jensen spilled it; instead, Jared gave a slight shrug and reached up over his head.

At first Jensen thought he was stretching; eyes drawn to the pull of fabric across Jared's chest before it registered that Jared had grabbed the back of his sweater and was tugging it over his head.

Breathing became next to impossible as all four of Jared's shirts tried to come off at once. Jensen swallowed hard and thanked God that Jared couldn't see the way his eyes were devouring that exposed strip of tanned flesh.

Holy _fuck_ , Jensen didn't remember Jared being that ripped when they did the pilot. Not that he'd ever gotten to _see_ Jared under all the layers they had him in, but he'd spent more time pressed against Jared then was good for his piece of mind and he really aught to have noticed the boy was covered in muscles.

And that _hip bone_ jutting tauntingly out of Jared's jeans just might be the death of him. Even the band of tighty whities peeking out was wrecking havoc on Jensen's nerves.

He wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry as Jared finally got the damn sweater off and grinned at him in triumph, his hair sticking up in static fueled rebellion. He leaned toward crying when Jared reached down to tug the remaining shirts back in place.

Not that Jensen had time to do either before Jared was standing in front of him and shoving the neck of his sweater over Jensen's head. There was a brief flash of panic as the world went black before Jensen inhaled an oddly comforting whiff of spicy musk clinging to the fabric, his brain barely registering _so this is what Jared smells like_ before his head poked back into the light.

He was so shocked he couldn't even bat Jared away before it was being yanked down his chest, folded arms and all.

“The fuck, Jared?” he gasped, more breathless than he cared to admit as he stared down at the fuzzy knit now covering him. He was fucking _swimming_ in the damn thing.

“Can't have you catching cold now, can we?” Jared drawled, a self satisfied smirk twisting his lips as his large hands started to briskly rub up and down Jensen's still folded arms. And damn it, it was taking all Jensen's rapidly fraying self-control _not_ to lean into that touch.

His head was spinning from going from freezing to burning in nothing flat and the only thing he wanted more than to snuggle down into the fuzzy, soft sweater surrounding him with Jared's residual heat and smell was to snuggle into Jared himself.

He felt small – tiny and vulnerable, really – in the huge sweater, yet safe and warmer then he had in a long time; a good long time. Up until about two seconds ago, he'd have sworn he'd gotten over this _need_ to be taken care of years ago.

Right around the time he'd realized that in Hollywood, people didn't date you because they _care_ about you, they dated you because it was a good career move.

So why the fuck was he standing here letting Jared burn holes in all his defenses?

Dating Jared, _not_ a good career move. Even _if_ Jensen ignored the fact that Jared was already taken, and happily at that. By a nice girl whom Jensen had actually _liked_ \- could see becoming friends with - the one time he'd met her.

He was so fucking screwed.

It was almost a relief to hear the PA's cheery 'hello' as she scurried over to them; almost a relief to be released from Jared's intense gaze and not have to analyze the sudden darkening he'd glimpsed in those magnificent depths. Because he _really_ didn't want to know if it had been anger or disappointment or if he was indulging in wishful thinking that it might be either one.

“'Bout damn time,” Jared teased, the dazzling smile he tossed the PA's way easing any sting out of the words.

The hands still resting on his arms gave a reassuring squeeze – almost as if Jared could sense the white hot burst of jealousy flash through Jensen as that smile was directed at someone other than him - before Jared turned his gaze to Jensen, his expression softening as their eyes met again.

Jensen felt the sick realization that he'd been gawking at Jared ever since he'd pulled the sweater over him sink in; any hope that Jared couldn't see the way Jensen was feeling shriveling up inside.

Fuck, _fuck_ , so much for playing this cool.

But Jared, the jerk, just smirked down at him and reached up; huge palms cupping lightly across Jensen's cheeks and ears, long fingers curling briefly against the back of his head before Jared released him and turned to face the PA.

Jensen shivered again, the sudden loss of contract making him dizzy and all he could do was sway slightly towards Jared's back as his co-star moved off to follow the PA. He felt like Jared was the sun and he'd just been caught in his irresistible gravitational pull.

He certainly hadn't started moving after them on his own accord.

Jensen twisted his fingers into the inside of the soft knit as he trailed behind Jared and the PA, pulling it up over his nose to inhale that musky scent again. He could almost identify what was soap and shampoo and aftershave from what was simply Jared and _that_ should have been all kinds of scary.

But somehow – someway – it wasn't; it was comforting and warm and fuzzy and safe and _Jared_ and for the first time since Jensen had realized he was crushing on the big lug, he was starting to think that maybe – just maybe - this wasn't the biggest fuck up he'd ever made.  



End file.
